


All these words I don't just say

by argentumlupine



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen, Podfic Available, Post-Split
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 05:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argentumlupine/pseuds/argentumlupine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray finds writing the song difficult enough. Deciding whether he should send the song to Frank, Mikey, and Gerard? Even harder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All these words I don't just say

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akamine_chan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/gifts).
  * Inspired by [[podfic] All these words I don't just say](https://archiveofourown.org/works/821657) by [Andeincascade (Ande)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ande/pseuds/Andeincascade). 



> For Aka. Happy birthday! I hope this is what you were looking for when you lobbed that prompt at me. ♥
> 
> Title from Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters"  
>  
> 
> Fic also posted at my journal [here](http://argentumlupine.dreamwidth.org/38891.html).

The first morning after they decide to split, Ray finds himself on the road to the studio without realizing what he’s doing. He makes an abrupt turn and parks at a pawn shop and stares at the steering wheel for a long while before he feels steady enough to drive again.

He books a flight for Jersey as soon as he gets home.

  
-  
  


Being back in Jersey is better. It gives him space, and as long as he avoids venues they’d played and their old practice space and that one diner they’d practically lived in for a while, it doesn't hurt. It doesn’t feel weird.

What _is_ weird is staying in his parents’ guest room and slipping into their routine. They don't talk about My Chem for the first three days. His parents chatter about family news, and their friends, and did you hear that they're finally remodeling that shopping center? They watch TV and play Scrabble and Ray helps his mom fix that shelf in the bathroom he promised to fix last time he'd been to visit.

He expects the fourth day to be more of the same, but when he comes down for breakfast, his parents are sitting side by side, looking serious. Ray stops in the doorway, trying to ignore the flutter of emotions trying to break through the shell.

“You need to talk about this,” Ray's mom says.

“Get it off your chest,” his dad adds.

Ray sits down at the table and lets his parents pry everything out.

  
-  
  


They give him two more days before his mom says gently, “You can’t hide here forever. It’s time to go home.”

“Yeah,” he says, because he knows she’s right.

They take him to the airport the next afternoon and hug him tight at security. “Go figure out what’s next,” his dad says. Ray just nods and hugs back, too choked up to say anything. They pull back before he’s ready to let go, but he gives his parents a determined smile and makes his way to the security lines.

The airport routine steadies him, though he still catches himself unconsciously looking for Gerard and Mikey and Frank as he walks to the terminal. He shakes himself. “Cut it out,” he says under his breath. He sits down in one of the seats facing the window, where he can’t see most of the waiting area, pulls out a notebook, and starts to write.

_Mama told me I should stand alone_

  
-  
  


He puts together something quick to post after he sees Gerard’s long tweet and Frank’s blog entry and Mikey’s terse response to the fans. Ray’s never considered himself a reader or a writer. He’s a musician and a geek.

The fans don’t seem to mind that he doesn’t give them words.

He will, though, as soon as he works through what he wants to say. He frowns at the scratched-out, scribbled-over lyrics in his hand for a while, then sets the crumpled paper aside and picks up his guitar. Melody, harmony, and rhythm are so much easier than words. This, he can do.

  
-  
  


Ray debates sending the vocals and guitar cut to someone before he starts working on the bass and drums. He wants a second opinion. He isn’t used to creating in a vacuum. But he doesn’t know how Mikey or Gerard or Frank will respond if he sends the song to them.

He sends it to Dewees instead. He tries to play a game on his phone while he waits for a reply. He tells himself Dewees is probably busy, anyway, and not to wait, but he keeps fucking up the game and as soon as his phone buzzes two text alerts in a row, he can’t get to his messages fast enough.

_awesome, catchy, heartfelt. cant wait to hear when its done_

_frank wants to know wheres his link_

Ray stares at the second message for a moment. He forgot that Dewees and Frank are working on DeathSpells stuff together. They’re probably practicing right now. Before he can think about it too hard, he sends Frank the song. His phone rings about three seconds later.

“Were you just going to let me find out when you put it online?” Frank demands before Ray can even say hello.

“I—” Ray sighs. “You guys just posted your responses to the internet at large. I thought that’s how we were going to do things.”

He hears a door close, then the thump of Frank slumping against a wall. “This is bigger than a blog post.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Are you fucking—It’s _music_ , Toro. The kids are going to go nuts.”

“They are not.”

“Do you know _anything_ about our fans?” Frank makes a frustrated noise. “You know what? Fine. Don’t believe me. Finish the song, post it. You’ll see.”

“Okay.”

“The kids are going to be pissed if you don’t put in a guitar solo.”

Ray’s already been working on a solo, so that won’t be hard. “Okay.”

“And if you don’t send it to me before you put it online I will personally come over there and smash your guitar.” Frank huffs out a breath and mutters, “Fucker.”

Ray laughs. “Fine, I’ll send it to you.”

“Damn right, you will.”

The silence stretches out between them. Ray has no idea what he’s supposed to say next. Finally, he blurts: “So, tell me about DeathSpells.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

  
-  
  


It takes Ray over a month to get the song finished and polished to his satisfaction. He sends it to Frank and Dewees once he’s done (Frank texts back, _you’re better at words than you think_ ), but he still can’t bring himself to send it to Mikey or Gerard. Ray is afraid Mikey will take it as a subtle dig about his lack of skill at the bass or something. He can’t figure out how to preface the link with “this is about me, not you,” and so he just doesn’t send Mikey the song. As for Gerard...

Ray has no idea how Gerard will react. He’d like to think Gerard will be supportive, but Gerard’s moving away from music now. Maybe he doesn’t want a reminder.

Frank has told him _repeatedly_ that Gerard’s only been encouraging when Frank or Dewees have sent him their own stuff and that he should just _send him the song already, Toro, what are you waiting for?_ It just feels weird, though, to send Gerard music without expecting it to be a collaboration and a step toward something new for both of them. Every time Ray starts to send Gerard the song he gets a hollow, sick feeling in his stomach.

He’s not Frank. He never fronted his own band, never took off to start new things just for the hell of it. The uncertainty is going to kill him.

He posts the song to soundcloud and Twitter, then shuts off all his gadgets and lies in bed staring at the ceiling for hours.

  
-  
  


When he checks his phone the next morning, Frank has left him three voicemails.

8:05 EDT: “You just posted that and fucked off to bed, didn’t you? Right. Of course you did. Listen, the kids are going crazy, just like _I told you_ they would. Check your soundcloud. And your @replies.”

9:53 EDT: “Get up and talk to the fans, Toro. They love your song. Oh, and did I mention? I TOLD YOU SO.”

10:49 EDT: “Seriously, get up. Don’t make me come over there. I know where you live.”

Ray texts him “I’m up, chill” and braces himself to read what the fans are saying.

It only takes a few minutes before he realizes he couldn’t respond to all the fans individually, even if he wanted to. Frank is right: the fans did go crazy in a good way. Ray manages to tweet a thank you, but otherwise he just has to sit back and stare at the outpouring of positive comments from the kids. He’d never expected this kind of reaction. It’s kind of overwhelming.

When his phone buzzes again he expects it to be Frank, sending him a mocking picture or comment, but it isn’t Frank.

It’s Mikey.

_now everyone else can hear how great your voice is. love the song, btw. send me the next one?_

As if it’s so easy. Ray lets out a shocked laugh, then spends an embarrassingly long time composing a reply. He finally goes with: _thanks. When I have something new I’ll send it._

Mikey’s response is immediate: _cool_

  
-  
  


Ray isn’t sure who he expected to be at the door when he answers it. UPS or FedEx, maybe. But when he swings the door open, it’s Gerard. “You were quiet for a long time. Should’ve known you were working on something big,” Gerard says, then steps right up to Ray and hugs him. Ray stays still. He doesn’t pull away, but he’s not sure if he should hug back.

“I’m not used to being the one to find the words,” he says. Gerard pulls back, frowning. Ray takes a step away and starts, too brightly, “So, what did you—”

“Ray.”

“—drive all the way over here for? You could have—”

“Hey!” Gerard grabs his shoulder. Ray stops abruptly. “We’re still friends. Aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” Ray says slowly.

“Yeah,” Gerard says. He rolls his eyes. “Were you afraid to send me the song? I’m not going to be a bitter resentful asshole about you or Frank or Mikey moving on.”

“I know. I do. It just... felt weird. Frank told me I was being stupid.”

“You sent it to _Frank_ but not to _me_?!” Gerard narrows his eyes and folds his arms across his chest. “I can’t believe you.”

“I sent it to Dewees first,” Ray admits. “And Frank found out, so I sent it to him. And then he yelled at me for being an idiot.”

Gerard lifts his chin. “I’m not going to yell. But I _do_ expect to see the others ahead of time.”

Ray laughs. “Fine, I’ll add you to the list.”

They grin at each other. “Are you going to invite me in and show me the rest?” Gerard asks. “I know you have more. Don’t even try to deny it.”

“I have more. Come on.”

Before Ray can turn to go into the house, Gerard reaches up to hug him again. This time, Ray hugs back. “Hey,” Gerard says quietly. “You don’t need to apologize for taking time to get your head together. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

Gerard lets go and nods once. “Good. Now, I believe I heard you say something about more songs?”

“Nothing even halfway done,” Ray warns as he closes the door behind them.

“Show me what you’ve got.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] All these words I don't just say](https://archiveofourown.org/works/821657) by [Andeincascade (Ande)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ande/pseuds/Andeincascade)




End file.
